


Why Anderson Stopped Wearing Neckties

by Stockholmsyndrom



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-30
Updated: 2011-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-18 19:51:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stockholmsyndrom/pseuds/Stockholmsyndrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme Fill: Sherlock gives Anderson 'the talk'</p><p>Original Prompt here: http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/8651.html?thread=38408651#t38408651</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Anderson Stopped Wearing Neckties

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Sherlock fiction - be warned! Also I'd like to mention that I am not a native speaker... so if I got anything wrong or something sounds awkward, please let me know.

“So your wife left you for good now,“ Sherlock mumbles absent-mindedly as Anderson once again forces him to put on the ridiculous light blue overall, despite it not being long enough to cover all of Sherlock’s legs.  
Anderson gives him a strange look and barely manages to prevent himself from glancing over to Donovan, either looking for help but probably just out of pure reflex.

“Will you ever shut your mouth and stop blurting about people’s personal lives? Who told you?”

Sherlock struggles to fit his precious Oxfords through the trouser legs and snorts at Anderson’s remark. The man is too stupid for his own good.  
“Your neck tie actually: It is yellow. You’ve never worn yellow; your wife detests that colour. Personally I think it is not becoming either, but then again nothing is becoming on stupidity. Also it is tied in a four-in-hand knot. Usually you wear a full Windsor knot, except when our dear Sally here stayed over when your wife was out of town. Then you wear a half Windsor knot. So neither of the two tied it for you – Why? Obviously you were alone this morning; which is unusual. If your wife’s out of town, why not invite Sally over? You wouldn’t miss on the chance to `chat` with her. And you have swollen eyes, as well as a slightly sore voice. You’re not sick, I’d noticed that. So what did you do last night? You did some screaming and probably crying too, people do when having domestics but you’re too quiet for that. It was something serious. A break-up? Most likely.”

Anderson gapes at Sherlock, his gloved hands fidgeting nervously in his pockets. This is not something he wanted to hear, and certainly not in front of the whole team. He’s grateful no one noticed though. Well, except for John Watson.

The Doctor, not having Sherlock’s problems with the expensive shoes, pushes through the two of them urging them to hurry up.

“Also he is not wearing his wedding ring.” John comments as they follow him into the house.

Sherlock’s face lights up and has John explain him how he felt the small bump on the ring-finger missing when they shook hands. Sherlock then reconsiders his reluctance to touch people.

All the while Anderson tags along those two, inwardly growling. He doesn’t like that the Doctor has become this observant. He doesn’t like that the freak talks about his personal matters as if they were part of a game he could play whenever he wanted to. And he sure as hell doesn’t like the looks Sherlock is giving him right now. Those haughty knowing eyes, how he hated them!

“John, will you make sure nobody touches the body? You know I hate it when people make a mess of my work.”

John raises an eyebrow but gets the hint. It is not often Sherlock Holmes wastes any moment of his time when there is a corpse waiting for him and a serial killer begging to be caught. But he has his moments when he surprises everyone. So the Doctor quickens his pace and meets Inspector Lestrade with a smile.

Sherlock lets Anderson take a breath, curious how the man will react. He know that he doesn’t like being alone with Sherlock. So he wants to know what his stupid little brain works out next.

“Look; if you’re trying to humiliate me or attempt blackmail-“

At this, Sherlock laughs heartedly. Really, he had a few guesses but Anderson’s conclusions are simply hilarious.  
“You never fail to amaze me with the magnitude of your stupidity. No, I would never blackmail you.”

Emphasize is heavy on the last word. Anderson cannot but feel a twinge of pain eating at him. He doesn’t like Sherlock. That doesn’t mean he had no sense of pride. And the obnoxious detective simply loves stepping over it and maybe even perform a little tap-dance on it.

“Thing is: Statistically 95% of adulterers are likely to cheat again in later relationships. 68% do so not even half a year into the following relationship.”  
Anderson's face falls. He whips his head to see if there is anyone nearby to overhear. To his relief Sally is still outside, busy with reporters and the rest of the team; and Inspector Lestrade is busy examining the corpse upstairs, probably questioning John as of Sherlock’s whereabouts.  
“What are you implying here,” he asks glaring at the consulting detective.

Sherlock shrugs. “Nothing at all. But it would seriously affect my work if Sgt Donovan was to have her heart broken six months from now.”

Anderson struggles with his breathing and seriously considers lunging forward to tackle Sherlock to the ground. A few blows to his pretty face surely would make the man shut up for a few minutes. But he then remembers that Sally doesn’t like violence, so he tries to keep his calm. Even though she is irritated as much as he is by Sherlock, she still wouldn’t approve of him turning into a heavy.

“I don’t know where this sudden concern comes from, but I can assure you that I have no intention to hurt Sally.”  
“Is that what you told your wife at the altar, too?”

Anderson grits his teeth. What the heck is this freak up to anyway? It’s not his bloody business. And he knows that, so why does he even care? He just broke up with his wife for god’s sake! He had other problems to deal with right now than the snoopy freak acting all big brother towards Sally.

“Come on Sherlock, or else Mr Jones might reconsider our date tonight,” John calls from upstairs. Mr Jones was of course the poor bloke with his head smashed in. Talk about decent, Anderson thinks.

“Just make sure Sgt Donovan doesn’t end up disturbing my work over a broken heart,” Sherlock remarks before leaving a dumbfounded Anderson and hurrying up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

“Sherlock, those figures were made up, weren’t they?” John whispers before he re-enters the room, Sherlock in tow. Lestrade does not like to be kept waiting.

The consulting detective just smirks, leaning towards his friend.

“Well observed, John. Well observed.”


End file.
